


I Can Make Your Heart Beat Short

by threatofjoy



Category: Anteros (Band), Photography RPF
Genre: 35mm, F/F, Oblivious Harry, TDCC UK tour 2017, adventures in gay photography, no Two Door though. just Anteros and Phoeb, useless lesbian Phoebe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threatofjoy/pseuds/threatofjoy
Summary: Anteros are on tour, and Phoebe's a bit of a mess. The worst part is that she knows precisely the cause of this terrible affliction, and its name is Laura Hayden. Who won't stop making her blush like an idiot.





	I Can Make Your Heart Beat Short

     Phoebe Fox seemed to be the victim of a very peculiar affliction. Her heart rate was unsteady, her usually still-as-a-stone photographer's grip faltered, and, worst of all, she knew exactly why. Phoebe struggled to put a name to her irksome state—"crush" seemed too juvenile, "infatuation" too obsessive—but she knew the whole matter was very much the fault of Laura Hayden. 

    Laura was the sort of girl who had that effect. When Laura laughed, Phoebe's heart melted. When Laura smiled, Phoebe blushed. When Laura performed, if not for the important task at hand of photographing the show, Phoebe could've died on the spot. It was, Phoebe thought, more than a bit pathetic. 

It really wasn't at all a viable endeavor, Phoebe told herself. Laura was... Laura. Laura had seen the world and done a million things with her life, and Phoebe was young and inexperienced, at least in comparison. It wasn't as if she'd share Phoebe's predicament. Not to mention the matter of whether Laura even liked girls.

    Phoebe was waiting idly in the night's Cambridge photographer's pit trying to figure out how to put an end to her lovestruck nonsense when the stage lights came up, and she was interrupted yet again by the voice of Laura Hayden. At least taking photos kept Phoebe busy. Maybe, Phoebe thought, looking at someone through a lens one too many times is what could send you into this dumb and lovestruck state. 

    Laura shot a look in Phoebe's direction at one instance of the oft-repeated, "I'm so drunk, I'm in love with you," before returning to her usual sway and strut around the stage. Phoebe felt her heart catch in her chest and supposed she had to discard the lens hypothesis. Her situation felt much more dire than could be induced by a camera. However, Phoebe told herself, Laura was, of course, merely looking at the camera for the sake of a good photo. Of course. Right?

    Laura herself really wasn't helping with Phoebe's affliction. They were friends—dear friends—but still, some of Laura's modes of affection were a bit.... verging on... something. She was nothing if not bold. Quite a few times she seemed to decide it most comfortable to use Phoebe as a human cushion on the many naps of Anteros' long van trips, and Phoebe certainly couldn't protest. Phoebe could, however, wonder—and she did, looking over at the girl with her arm hooked around Phoebe's waist and her head resting on Phoebe's shoulder—what she meant by it. 

    Phoebe told herself Laura couldn’t mean anything by it, but she couldn’t stop herself from hoping that she did. Sometimes, lying awake in whatever budget hotel room the night had brought them to, Phoebe imagined Laura. As the real Laura lay sleeping beside her, the Laura of her mind's eye whispered oh, Phoebe, my love, and leaned in to kiss her. It was both an exciting and unnerving thought. It felt sort of wrong that poor Laura was unknowingly the subject of these Sapphic scenes of Phoebe's imagination, but she couldn't really help it. Wondering about Laura lead to dreaming about Laura far too easily.

 • • •

    Laura was perpetually photogenic, and Phoebe was perpetually photographing, so quite often a moment would become an impromptu photo shoot. Phoebe peered at Laura holding a black guitar and looking ever-so-effortlessly rockstarish through her trusty 35 millimeter camera's viewfinder. Phoebe pursed her lips.

    "Hm. We need a more interesting setting," declared Phoebe. Her eyes darted around the little Travelodge room that the band were seated around variously. Finally, she locked her gaze on the bathroom door. "I have an idea! You should get in the bathtub."

    "Ooh, that'd look cool," said Laura, standing up from her perch on the bed.

    Jackson glanced at them a bit quizzically, but in the short time he'd been with Anteros he'd already learned not to question things like bathtub photoshoots.

    Laura sat in the tub and maneuvered herself into a comfortable position with the guitar. Phoebe was deliberating how to go about the situation again.

   "Hm, could I... no, I don't know if that would be safe."

   "What the hell are you doing in there?" asked Joshua, leaning into the doorframe.

    Laura shrugged. She was merely the subject of Phoebe's intricate photographic schemes and not the mastermind behind them.

   "I was wondering if I can get up on top of that sink to get a picture from above," said Phoebe.

    "Do you want to break your bones and also the sink?" asked Joshua incredulously. 

    "I have pretty good balance!" Phoebe retorted. "And I can hold onto the door. It'll look so cool if I'm up there."

    "I don't approve of this plan," said Joshua, "but I will take a picture of you doing it."

    "Very helpful," said Laura, shooting Joshua a look. "Be careful," she advised Phoebe. Phoebe nodded and stepped up on the side of the tub, a bit shakily.

    "Okay, and then just—Josh, could you give me a hand, actually?" asked Phoebe. He begrudgingly helped her to climb onto the sink.

     Phoebe gripped the door in one hand and her camera in the other, and tried to be as still as she could on her slightly perilous porcelain perch. All was silent for a moment, save for Joshua getting out his phone to take a picture of the situation, until the click of her camera meant her scheme was a success.

    "Perfect!" Phoebe made her way back down to the floor. "And all with no broken bones."

    "It starts with the sink, but soon enough, you two'll be staging photo shoots hanging off of a cliff by one arm," said Joshua.

    "I mean, that would make for some good photos," said Laura. Joshua shook his head.

     A few days later, Phoebe picked up her newly-developed rolls of film and her faithful flash drive from her favorite camera store in Manchester where she'd left them just a few days prior. The store was always remarkably efficient at getting to her film. She plugged in the flash drive of scanned photos and was met with lovely results, a slightly ridiculous percentage of which were of Laura. 

    “Hey, Josh, Laura, look at this! It was worth getting on the sink for,” Phoebe called. 

    Joshua looked at the screen. “That does look good,” he conceded, “but climbing on a sink is still not a good idea.” Phoebe rolled her eyes.

    Laura leaned over Phoebe’s shoulder and peered at all the photos on screen. “You really are magic with that camera.” Laura smiled.

    Phoebe smiled back at her. "Youreally make a fantastic subject.” 

    Laura pecked Phoebe on the cheek and walked away smirking. Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat or two.  _God,_ Phoebe thought, _does she even know what she does to me?_ Phoebe shook her head as if to clear it and resumed sorting through her photo scans.

    Not long later, Laura wandered through the room again. “You have something... right there, said Laura, gesturing to her left cheek and hardly suppressing a giggle.

    Once Phoebe made it to the nearest mirror, she simply sighed. There was a bold, red print of Laura’s lipstick on her cheek. “She _must_ be doing this on purpose,” Phoebe huffed under her breath. “Or maybe I’m just going off the deep end because of all this."

   • • •

    It was a short time until the floodgates were opened to the venue and the queue of concertgoers, which seemed to grow longer each night, was let in. Harry, Jackson, and Joshua were off double-checking equipment as Phoebe and Laura sat on the couch of Anteros’ small but accommodating Newcastle dressing room. Phoebe stared at her laptop, scrolling through photos upon photos in Lightroom. Laura was making sure her appearance was properly in order.

    "You should let me do your makeup some time. Let me use all my fancy stuff on you," said Laura, rifling through her seemingly bottomless makeup bag.

    "I mean, I do have my own fancy stuff,” countered Phoebe.

    "Like what?” asked Laura.

    "Like... this eyeliner is good,” said Phoebe.

    “Wait!” Laura exclaimed, having uncovered a particularly notable piece of her makeup stash. “This would look gorgeous on you.” She held up a small palette of neutral-toned shades of eyeshadow.

    Phoebe shrugged. "Sure, if you say so. That does look pretty."

    "Doesn't it? Look, it's all shimmery." Laura held it up to the light to show it. 

    “Ooh,” said Phoebe, squinting through the lid’s clear plastic.

    “Here,” said Laura, producing a small, clean makeup brush from her bag, “turn towards me.” Phoebe put down her laptop and the two reoriented themselves on the dressing room’s couch. Laura inspected the palette, then Phoebe, then the palette again. “Hm, one of the cooler colors will go wonderfully with that beautiful little bit of blue to your eyes. Close your eyes.”

    Phoebe kept her eyelids as closed and relaxed as she could while trying to suppress a grin at the feeling of Laura fawning over her. The touch of Laura’s brush was soft but swift, skating across her eyelids with practiced ease, and Laura was so close to her that Phoebe could feel her breath on her skin.

    Laura leaned back. “Is that… no, that’s not entirely even… Hm,” she said, and set back to touching it up. She retraced her strokes and absentmindedly breathed, “…really are so beautiful…” seeming more like a simple musing of wonder than a compliment. Phoebe tried to keep her heart from bursting on the spot.

    Phoebe, her eyes still dutifully closed, felt the brush leave her eyelid. Laura paused for a moment and inspected her work.

    “That looks lovely. Keep your eyes closed though,” instructed Laura.

    Phoebe felt Laura brush a spare strand of hair behind her ear, her hand lingering on Phoebe’s cheek for a moment. Phoebe froze. What?

    Laura bit her lip in contemplation for a brief second before kissing Phoebe, softly but boldly. She paused and gazed at Phoebe, waiting for her reaction with respect but without a hint of trepidation.

    Phoebe blinked, opening her eyes. Oh. _Oh._

Laura couldn’t help but giggle at the sheerly stunned look on Phoebe’s face.

    As if by reflex, Phoebe snapped out of her spell and reached for the red bandana Laura kept faithfully around her neck, gently pulling Laura in to kiss her again. And again. And again. Laura's arm found its way around Phoebe's waist, and Phoebe's arm found its way across Laura's shoulder. They were very comfortably tangled in this way for a while as Laura kissed her with such desire it bordered on desperation.

    Phoebe's better judgement finally won out over her lovestruck daze, and she leaned back ever so slightly.

   "This is... good. Really good. But it's ten minutes to seven," said Phoebe.

    "Oh, for fuck's sake," cursed Laura, pecking Phoebe once more on the cheek before checking her makeup in the mirror (thank God she'd not put on lipstick) and swiftly leaving the dressing room.

   Phoebe sat, frozen for a moment. She blinked at the mirror. What had just happened? Why had—how did—when had—

    Laura kissed her. Laura liked her. Laura kissed her with absolutely no prior indication that such a thing would happen. Phoebe felt a bit lightheaded. She was so lost in thought that she jumped a bit at the sound of the door creaking open. Harry strolled in, grabbed a water bottle, and then turned to Phoebe. She could only imagine that her face must have still been a rather crimson shade.

    "You okay? Laura certainly seemed to be in a hurry," asked Harry.

    "Uh, yeah. Yeah! Just lost track of time... is all..." Phoebe replied.

    "Oh, alright. Doors are soon," said Harry, thankfully questioning no further.

    "Be right out!" said Phoebe as Harry departed.

    Phoebe took a deep breath and gathered her camera bag's contents. Right now, there was much to do, and Phoebe tried her best to focus. But later... later, would they be continuing wherever that was going?

 • • •

    If her fixation on Laura had been a bit ridiculous before, it had now reached the point of utter ludicrousy. Phoebe stood on the side of the stage, concealed behind a few amps and speakers, snapping photos as per usual. Every time she gazed at Laura through her viewfinder, however, her heart swelled in her chest far more than usual. She kissed me, she kissed me, she kissed me… Half of Phoebe’s mind was able to focus on taking good pictures, but half was devoted solely to repeating the same single sentence like a mantra: she kissed me, she kissed me. Phoebe essentially had to force herself to take some pictures of Joshua, Jackson, and Harry in the name of fairness, despite none of the three holding the title of "Laura Fucking Hayden, Who Kissed Me.” Phoebe was a bit giddy, to say the least.

    The show passed in a daze of bright lights and the roar of the crowd. Watching Sundara Karma and Two Door perform was at least a brief distraction from the endless Laura-related thoughts spinning around Phoebe’s mind. Soon enough, like always, Anteros were hauling their equipment back into their trusty van and climbing inside it. 

    “So, what are our luxurious accomodations for the night?” asked Harry.

    Laura consulted her phone. “We have two rooms at the ever-prestigious Premier Inn. One’s got two beds and the other has one. Boys take one and girls take the other?” she suggested. The rest of the van nodded their assent. Phoebe’s stomach fluttered a bit at the thought.

    In no time at all, they reached the hotel and headed into the lobby with whatever few things they needed for the night. Laura carried hers in an ever-elegant little floral bag. Harry carried his in a discarded plastic bag from Tesco. Such were the ways of Anteros. 

    Phoebe and Laura arrived at their humble abode for the night and put down their bags. Laura swiftly produced a makeup-remover wipe from her bag and set to work on her face at the mirror. Phoebe sat awkwardly on the bed, trying to stop fretting over the situation.

    Were they going to pretend nothing had happened? Had anything happened, in the grand scheme of things? Was she overthinking this? Do friends just… make out sometimes, as if it’s no big deal? 

    Phoebe was at least fairly certain that the answer to her last question was a definitive “no.” She resolved that she really should say something, daunting as the idea was, so she mustered up as much courage as she could.

    “So, um… So before… in the dressing room…” Phoebe trailed off.

    Laura smirked. “Looking for some more of that, are you?”

    “No, no, I just… I mean, I, uh, wouldn’t mind, but I just… was wondering… what you meant by that?” Phoebe floundered. Her posture was that of someone bracing for impact.

    Laura turned to face her, eyebrows raised. “I meant that I like you. I’m fond of kissing pretty girls.” Laura smiled. “And you seemed like you wouldn’t mind.” 

    Phoebe’s face flushed. “I didn’t think you’d like me like that.”

    Laura sat at the foot of the bed and giggled. “I can’t really say the same about you.”

    “What?” said Phoebe incredulously.

    “I started noticing how you were falling over yourself like a lovesick puppy lately. And I really doubted it was over one of the guys,” teased Laura.

    “…Oh.” Phoebe buried her face in her hands. She peeked through her fingers at Laura. “Was I really that obvious?”

    “Sometimes. It was rather flattering, actually. And particularly cute.”

    “Oh, god.” Phoebe’s expression was somewhere between a grin and a grimace.

    Laura moved closer and tucked a wayward lock of hair behind Phoebe’s ear. “Do you wanna get back to it, then?” she whispered, and Phoebe was already clinging to her for dear life. Laura’s kiss was as red as a rose, just as bold but just as delicate. Her fingers skated across Phoebe’s skin with no clear destinations other than making Phoebe utterly melt. 

    The two wound up with Laura leaning over Phoebe, and she couldn’t help but pull back for a moment to grin at the sight of the warm and lovestruck girl beneath her. She really was beautiful. Laura would have happily sat forever simply soaking in the sight if not for the way Phoebe pulled her in with such eagerness. They continued their prior, comfortable rhythm of kissing, and Laura’s hand ventured to the waistband of Phoebe’s jeans. Phoebe froze. 

    “Not for that?” asked Laura attentively.

    “Oh, it’s just... A lot at once. I’m still a bit worried I’m going to wake up from this and it’ll turn out to just be a particularly desperate dream,” Phoebe replied.

    “Well, that won’t happen, but it’s perfectly fine, my love,” Laura assured, kissing Phoebe on the cheek. “But you should take those off, they seem hardly comfortable.” Laura sprung from her place on the bed and got Phoebe’s pajamas from her bag. She tossed them towards her and went for her own. Phoebe and Laura had changed clothes in front of each other many a time before and thought nothing of it, but now it felt… different. Phoebe tried not to blush.

    “Oh,” said Laura eagerly, “I have the _softest_ makeup wipes, let me get that eyeshadow off of you. Which looked gorgeous, by the way.” She smiled with pride in her choice of shade for Phoebe. They stood by the sink as Laura removed Phoebe’s eyeshadow with as much delicacy and care as she had applied it. 

    “And don’t they smell wonderful, too? They’re rosewater,” said Laura. She finished the task, and with Phoebe’s eyelids sufficiently cleansed, kissed Phoebe much like she had after applying the eyeshadow. “Only fitting,” said Laura. Phoebe giggled.

    In the snugness and freshness of pajamas and washed faces, Phoebe crawled back into the Premier Inn bed with Laura quickly following suit. They lay in silence for a moment before Laura tutted, “You should let your hair down. Sleeping like that’s not good for your hair.” She reached behind Phoebe and gingerly untied her hair.

    Phoebe yawned. “Thanks.” She kissed Laura again, a bit less frantically and fervently than before. Laura pulled her silky black eye mask over her eyes and absentmindedly twirled a lock of Phoebe’s hair in her fingers, her other arm stretched over Phoebe comfortably.

    The two were nearly asleep when Phoebe couldn’t help but ask, groggily, “…So, you’re gay, right? I mean, you… like girls…”

    Laura raised her eye mask, trying to suppress a laugh. “Phoebe, my love, why on _earth_  would I kiss you like that if I was straight?”

    “Good point,” mumbled Phoebe. “I was just making sure.”

    “You’re helpless,” teased Laura affectionately. Phoebe supposed that was true, but kissing Laura seemed to be the remedy to the helpless affliction caused by Laura in the first place.


End file.
